


A Crush and a Costume

by icanhelpyouthere



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drabble, Fluff, Halloween, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Scheming Pansy, Secret Crush, Sexy Costumes, flustered Harry, hint of smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-04
Updated: 2015-11-04
Packaged: 2018-04-30 01:42:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5145629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icanhelpyouthere/pseuds/icanhelpyouthere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry has developed a secret crush on Draco Malfoy. Desperate to act on it, Harry turns to an eyeliner-wielding Pansy Parkinson, who uses the 8th Year Halloween Party as the playing field for her plot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Crush and a Costume

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for ourloveislegendrarry's ScaryDrarry fest this year on Tumblr.

Harry drags his fingers through his hair, staring across the Great Hall as he sighs in frustration. 

"Oh for goodness' sake, Harry." He glances up to find Hermione frowning at him with her lips pursed. "If I hear you sigh like that over him one more time, I'm going to tell him myself." 

"Shut it!" Harry hisses glancing around the table. "Don't you dare, I'm- I'm working on it, okay?"

"Ooh, are we talking about your crush on Malfoy again?" Ginny asks as she slides onto the bench next to him. 

Harry groans and drops his head against the table with a satisfying thud. Why is it he has the two most meddlesome girls he's ever met as his best friends? 

"Hermione's right, you know. You should just tell the prat," Ron says, his voice muffled as he chews on a biscuit. 

"Honestly, Ronald, don't eat and talk at the same time." Hermione's still frowning, but her lips have gone soft as she looks at Ron. 

"Since when are you on their side?" Harry whines, tilting his head on the table to glare at Ron. 

Ron swallows his bite, shooting Hermione a sheepish smile, and then explains, "Since you've started moping about him and since Thursday, when I heard you moan his name in your sleep. I'm hoping if you start shagging, I won't have to hear that anymore." 

Harry's face reddens as Ginny bursts into giggles, and Hermione asks, "Why don't you do what I suggested the other day? If you don't know how to tell him, ask one of his friends." 

"Because that's stupid! They're just going to laugh at me and tell him themselves." 

Hermione looks at him in exasperation. "The war's over, Harry. Everyone who came back to school is making an effort to get along. It's worth a shot, and either way, he'll find out and then you can go from there." 

Harry grumbles and finishes his tea before excusing himself, heading off to get some air. 

When he reaches the nearest courtyard, he slumps down against a pillar. Harry started noticing Draco differently over the summer, during the Death Eater trials. What had really caught Harry's attention was the fire that still burned inside Draco, despite his noticeable tension and fear. Draco refused to simply hide away in his pardon, and had come back to Hogwarts despite the public's disapproval. That spoke to Harry in a way nothing else had, and Harry couldn't help but be captivated by him. 

Harry's thoughts are interrupted when he hears a haughty throat-clearing and he looks up to find Pansy Parkinson glaring down at him. 

"Er, hi?" His voice is cautious as he waits to hear what she wants. 

"Look Potter, I'm not going to apologize, but I just- I need to say this so it doesn't bother me anymore. What I did the night of the Battle, I didn't-" 

"It's okay, Parkinson," Harry tells her. "You don't have to do this, as much as I appreciate it. I understand. I know things were- fucked up for you and a lot of others. I'm not- angry, or anything."

Her sharp eyes soften just a fraction before returning to their piercing stare. "Well that's- good. Glad we've covered this." She turns to leave and something clicks in Harry. He jumps to his feet and catches her elbow, and she whips around as if to shout at him. 

"Hey, I- I wondered if I could ask you a favor," he tries. 

Pansy gives him a calculated once-over before she seems to decide something. She turns towards him fully, crossing her arms. "What is it, then?" 

Biting his lip, Harry takes a chance and confides in her.

-

Pansy had been positively gleeful when she learned of Harry's crush, and had immediately agreed to assist him. The glint in her eyes had made Harry slightly concerned, but he needed her help and he knew it. They both knew it. She'd told him her plan would take place during the eighth year Halloween party two days from then, and so here Harry is, the day of the party, walking up to the Prefects' Bathroom to meet her. 

When he steps in and locks the door behind him, he finds Pansy sitting at a counter with a bag at her side. She's dressed as some sort of nymph, lace-like black wings fluttering at her back. 

"Alright, Potter, time to turn those surprisingly good looks you've come into recently into something amazing." She beckons him to sit in front of her. 

"What's the plan, then?" He asks nervously as he settles before her. She'd instructed him to wear the Muggle contact lenses he'd obtained over summer with which he rarely botheredt, but besides that, she'd given him no other clues. 

"The _plan_ is to dress you up- or down, I should say- so you look ravishing, and then go to the party," she says matter-of-factly while pulling out a makeup kit. 

"That's it?" Harry frowns. "What do I do when I'm there?"

"Really, Potter, I know you Gryffindors have poor excuses for social lives, but do you seriously not know how to behave at a party?" 

Harry huffs. "I meant what do I do about Draco." 

"Oh." A clever smile spreads across her face. "Trust me, you won't have to do anything." 

"Trust you," Harry repeats, arching a disbelieving brow. 

"Precisely," she purrs, lifting an eyeliner pencil to his confused gaze. "Now close your eyes." 

-

On their way to the party in the eighth year common room, Harry tugs on his trousers awkwardly. "I look ridiculous."

"You look positively edible," Pansy corrects, her eyes raking his form. She sighs, clearly pleased with herself. "I do fantastic work. I should be recognized for my talents worldwide. I bet I could even make your Granger look like Aphrodite incarnate with some hard work." 

Harry shivers in the chilly corridor, glancing at his bare torso. "You couldn't at least let me wear a shirt? It's embarrassing." 

"Potter." She halts, spitting his name at him. "The whole point of this is you're supposed to be sexy."

"A sexy dragon tamer," Harry says skeptically. 

"Mm, yes. It's quite a popular notion, I can't understand why you don't realize that." 

Harry sighs anxiously, looking down at himself. Pansy put him in dragon-hide trousers that are far tighter than Harry deems acceptable, and heavy combat boots. He's wearing a necklace chain with a dragon talon dangling from it, and she's framed his eyes with some smokey eyeliner. Finally, she's tied his shaggy hair half back into a sort of low bun, letting some of his curls fall artfully loose around his face. The finishing touch, much to Harry's mortification, is a whip that hangs from a loop on the waistline of his trousers. He'd tried to ask where she'd gotten all this so quickly, but she'd just smiled smugly and shushed him, making him afraid to ask again. 

As they approach the archway to the common room, Pansy smiles deviously at him. "Good luck, Potter. You won't need it." Before Harry can ask what she means, she shoves him into the party. 

There's music with a steady beat pulsing in the thick air, and his classmates are already working their way towards drunk. Everyone near the door turns to stare at Harry, and Harry can feel a flush travel down his neck. Clearing his throat, he nods at Lavender, who's nearest and gaping at him, and then hurries over to the side of the room where Seamus is serving drinks. 

"Blimey, Harry," Seamus gasps, nearly knocking over the shot he's pouring. "You look fuckin' hot." 

"Er- thanks," Harry murmurs, blinking in surprise at Seamus' blinding costume. He's dressed as a leprechaun with a gaudy, flashing necklace that's squeaking, _"Kiss me!"_ "Nice, um, costume." Snagging a tumbler of firewhiskey, he downs half of it in one go, looking around nervously. Utterly terrified, Harry wonders if Pansy just set him up to embarrass him- he doesn't even see Draco anywhere. Is he even coming to the party? 

Just as he's about to resolve to go find Ron and Hermione, he sees a flash of blond hair and turns quickly, finding Draco dressed in black leather pants and a black shirt with a neckline the plunges down past his sternum. Both articles of clothing may as well be painted on, revealing so much of Draco's body that they make Harry's mouth go dry. Draco has similar makeup around his eyes to Harry, but Draco's is thicker and darker. As he's admiring the shadowing, Harry realizes the silver eyes are pinned on him, and they look surprised. 

Draco walks over to him- or rather, stalks over, that's what it really feels like, and Harry holds his ground with bated breath. 

"Potter," Draco says, eyes traveling down Harry's abdomen. 

"Hi, Draco." 

Draco's gaze shoots back up to him, sparkling curiously. "Since when are we on first name basis?" 

Harry feels heat rising in his cheeks and coughs. "I just- think it's time to try some things out. What are you supposed to be?"

"Costumes are for children," Draco says promptly, as if he's said this a hundred times today. "Yours, however-" He reaches out to tug on the talon around Harry's neck. "-is possibly the best I've ever seen. Tell me more about what we're meant to try out." 

"I- I thought we could- talk." Harry's pulse is racing as Draco shifts half an inch closer. 

"Talk," Draco echoes. His hand rises to twist around one of Harry's curls. "That sounds awfully dull, Potter. Isn't there anything better you can think to do with your mouth?" 

Harry's sharp intake of breath makes them meet each other's gazes once again, except now Draco's eyes look- hungry. Swallowing, Harry goes for it. "Well, maybe we can go somewhere and I can get you to call me Harry." 

Draco's lips curl into a smirk and he leans in to Harry, whispering, "We'll see, Potter. I suppose that will depend on how talented you are." 

Grinning widely, Harry lets Draco grab his wrist and pull him up the stairwell to their dorms, thrusting his drink at a winking Hermione as they pass her. 

When Hermione notices Pansy walk up beside her, she asks, "How'd you know that'd work?" 

"Please," Pansy scoffs. "Draco's been into Potter for years. All he needed was an extra push, and I knew if he saw Potter trussed up in all Draco's weaknesses, he wouldn't be able to stay away." 

A loud moan carries down the stairs and Hermione snorts while Pansy pulls a face. "And now they both owe me, the easy wankers. Child's play, really." 

-

As the party rages down below the tower of dormitories, anyone who walks past the entryway to the stairs just after midnight would be treated to a desperate cry that sounds something like, _"Harry!"_

 


End file.
